


Radius

by 64907



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Costume Kink, Costumes, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rekindling, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: Sho and Jun try together.





	Radius

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rochi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rochi/gifts).



> The brief history of how this fic came to be is in the end notes. It might be spoilery since it links to the art that inspired this, and some of the scenes depicted appear in this fic.
> 
> Advance happy holidays to y'all, especially to rochi who's been a great person. You deserve all the good things, and I can only hope this is up to par with all the amazing art you've been sending to me.
> 
> This can be a sequel to [Firebird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660641) because of one paragraph that makes a reference to it, but I think this can also stand on its own so there's no need to read that.
> 
> ETA: there might be spoilers for the SJ unit song here. I mostly made up stuff, but...just in case. There's also a mention of Bazuri Night here, and while I didn't delve into too much details, there's still a few details.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

December is one of the busiest months for Arashi. Weirdly enough, it's the month in which Sho feels relatively more free: his hosting jobs are out of the way, and usually, if he has any dramas for the new year (he doesn't for this year), the filming would wrap up even before December hits.  
  
He's got Zero and variety shows, but that's the norm. It's the busiest for Arashi because of new year promotions, music shows, concerts, and new year specials, but it's easier for Sho when they all have the same schedule. If he's the only one different, it's him who has to adjust, and sometimes, he can't even find the time to.  
  
They don't get a lot of time lately, him and Jun. For the first half of the year, Sho had a movie filming followed by a drama shooting, and when that wrapped up, he had to do 24-hour TV. He got his usual hosting jobs after on top of drama promotions, and Jun also started filming for his drama. Then Jun had to plan the concerts while Sho was doing location shoots for Zero, and they hardly saw one another except for work.  
  
Simply put, Sho can't really remember the last time they had...well, time.  
  
Jun spent the Sapporo leg of their concert making revisions on the setlist and lighting (Sho tried not to be too happy about Jun focusing on their unit song; Jun's always been a perfectionist so it should be nothing new), ordering takeout and conducting staff meetings in his room. Sho only met up with him at the venue and on the company van on the way to the airport.  
  
He did stay up with Jun during the meetings, mostly when Jun was still deciding on what they could wear for Come Back. Jun had turned down all of Sho's suggestions (Sho's a little disappointed about receiving a quick refusal when he pitched in his idea of rapping in double parkas), said no to any choreography that required prolonged interaction, and maintained that they ought to stay at both ends of the stage for seventy-five percent of the song.  
  
An eyebrow was all it took for Sho to back down. Sometimes he gets it, most of the times he doesn't. But Jun is Jun, and he's always been a little odd when it came to Sho and any form of contact in front of everyone.  
  
So whatever the fans are bound to see, that’s all Jun. Sho's only a participant; he always lets Jun get the final say in almost anything.  
  
It's December and Arashi's at their busiest, and Sho's on his way home in the company van when his phone vibrates in his pocket. The first half of the Tokyo leg of the tour just wrapped up, and in Sho's opinion, it went well enough. He is looking forward to sleeping after eating all that cake Aiba and Ohno forced him to partake in.  
  
He blinks blearily at the phone screen and sees Jun's name, and a quick input of his passcode reveals the message.  
  
In truth, Sho half-expected it to be another revision to their unit song.  
  
_Are you free anytime this week?_  
  
(He's slightly disappointed it isn't.)  
  
He leans against the car seat as he thinks about it. He's got Zero tomorrow. FNS is this coming Wednesday.  
  
_No._  
  
He hits Send.  
  
The ellipsis pops up not even a second later, and Sho waits.  
  
_Next week?_  
  
Sho blinks. They have to film for all the Fuji TV specials next week. He's got Yakai too.  
  
_No._  
  
The ellipsis reappears and is onscreen for a moment. _Then when?_  
  
Sho tries to recall what his manager talked to him about a few hours ago before the concert. He's got a free day, but he promised his college friends he'll go see them. They'll go skiing since winter has started for a few months now.  
  
_I don't know. Is this urgent? Do you have some changes you want to talk about?_ he asks.  
  
It has to be work. It's always work nowadays; the last time he and Jun found the time, they ended up talking about what they wanted the album to be since it hadn't been finalized back then.  
  
That was months ago. The year is ending in less than a month.  
  
_No, it's not urgent,_ is Jun's reply. _I'm sorry if you're busy._  
  
Sho recognizes that tone, imagines hearing it in person. Jun becomes like this when he thinks nothing would work in his favor, that Sho's mere seconds away from saying no, he's got no time.  
  
That, Sho knows to be partly his fault. Back then, he had no time for Jun at all—he hung up and rejected Jun's phone calls and invitations, used his studies as an excuse. Now that they're a couple of years older and are at this stage, Sho thinks Jun's perception of him should have changed a bit.  
  
He sighs. _Do you want to come over? I'm nearly home._  
  
_No, you need to sleep_ , as a reply is so very Jun, always stubborn and prideful. _It can wait. Don't worry about it._  
  
Don’t worry automatically translates to next time, but Sho’s always lived in schedules. He knows there’ll be no next time in a long time. He’s got the Winter Olympics.  
  
He wonders if he should just give in. He's tired, it's late, he's got hectic work days coming up, and he hasn't gotten laid in months. Jun feels more like a coworker than someone Sho's got a relationship with, to the point that even he forgets sometimes.  
  
But right now is not one of those times; right now it sinks in that he does have Jun, they have this, and it's been a while.  
  
_I miss you too, you know,_ Sho sends, knowing Jun will never say the words. He's too cool for that. Sho's used to adjusting, so he adjusts. _Without the concerts, I'll only see you in VS and Shiyagare._  
  
This time, the ellipsis reappears, only to disappear. It shows up again after a few seconds, and Sho smiles. He likes shattering Jun's supposed confidence; not everyone knows that for Jun to be cool, he has to exert effort. It's why Sho teases him about it, cracking a joke every time Jun does something in a manner only Jun would do in such a situation. It's not actually cool; it's just fun to see Jun flustered and a little wide-eyed.  
  
It reminds Sho that despite Jun's growth (in both mind and body—Sho can't deny the latter since Jun's bulkier than him now), he's still the same Jun, unable to take compliments of any kind. He's always been the shy one.  
  
When the ellipsis disappears, it’s replaced by _You're the one who's got all these hosting gigs._  
  
Touché, Sho thinks. He's about to type a reply when he gets another that says, _As if you need the money. Are you planning to buy another resthouse?_  
  
Sho snorts; they're never going to let that one go. _It wasn't a resthouse._  
  
_I'm sorry. Villa._  
  
_You totally ignored my first message,_ Sho sends, trying to be accusatory. In reality, he's a little happy they’ve got time to text like this: nothing about work, just light banter like the busiest months in their lives didn't happen.  
  
_When are you free?_ is the text Sho receives after a few minutes.  
  
Sho considers it. He has to make this work. Jun wouldn’t send the first text unless he’s feeling the absence too, and Sho’s been quiet about it in hopes of letting Jun do what he’s got to do while he goes and does what he has to do, always equipped with the mindset that whatever they have will be there when they’re no longer too busy to pay attention to it again.  
  
_Sunday, after the concert,_ he types. He knows they’re both bound to be tired at that time, but they can always sleep on the plane ride back.  
  
But then, he tries not to hope. Sunday’s a busy day for Jun since he’s got all these different cliques and he never runs out of people to share a drink with: concert staff, drama staff, movie staff, colleagues from the jimusho, high school friends, high-profile acquaintances. Sho knows he’s on the bottom of that list, and if he and Jun ever went out to have drinks, it’s because everybody else was otherwise occupied.  
  
When they do drink, it’s almost always at Sho’s or Jun’s place, with no one around to see. It makes it easier when one thing leads to another; they don’t have to take separate cabs and try to avoid the paparazzi as best as they could.  
  
In the privacy of their apartments, they don’t have to hide.  
  
_Yours or mine?_ is Jun’s reply after a couple of minutes, and Sho knows Jun has moved his schedule in his brief silence, making time for Sho as Sho had done for him.  
  
The thought makes him smile in its simplicity. Sometimes he doesn’t need much.  
  
_Mine,_ Sho sends, remembering he still has another ichimen for next week, and he already made the mistake of leaving the draft of his report at Jun’s place more than once. Jun didn’t utter a word of complaint, but Sho’s manager had a string of it.  
  
_Time?_ Jun asks, when Sho’s halfway into typing it already.  
  
Sho hesitates. Will this be stretching it?  
  
He decides to risk it. _Come straight to my place. Meet me there._  
  
He waits. The ominous Delivered is all he sees. No ellipsis, no other indication that Jun has read the message.  
  
He might be pushing his luck with this next message, but if he doesn’t send it, he won’t know.  
  
_I have a request._  
  
He gets a _?_ for a response.  
  
A few months back, he and Jun both compromised over something. It mostly revolved around Jun’s hesitation to go after what he wants (Sho knows it sounds unbelievable— _the_ Matsujun, hesitating?—but it’s true) and how Sho gently coaxed him out of his worries, but it worked.  
  
It worked, because Sho back then was willing to meet Jun halfway.  
  
He wants to know if right now, Jun is the same.  
  
_I want to try something,_ he admits. If Jun’s memory is not as unreliable as he makes it appear on national television, he’d catch on to this.  
  
Sho’s quite certain he would.  
  
Jun’s reply is something he didn’t expect.  
  
_Is now okay?_  
  
Usually, Jun doesn’t call him. He used to, way back. But when he stopped doing so on a regular basis, he only reserves the phone calls for important matters.  
  
Sho tries not to be too happy at Jun treating this as an important thing. It should be normal for any couple out there.  
  
But they aren’t normal.  
  
He looks out. He can see his apartment building, and after a few reminders, his manager will finally let him go. _Call me in a minute._  
  
He mostly nods to what his manager says (“The links are in my most recent email, so please don’t forget to answer the questions submitted on the drama webpage,”) and bids him good night with a lethargic bow. He walks into his apartment building, and his phone rings when he’s in the elevator.  
  
He picks up after only two rings. It’s his fastest. “You’ve got the perfect timing, you know that?”  
  
“Of course,” Jun drawls, and ah, that explains it, Sho thinks. Jun’s been drinking. He probably got home earlier than Sho did.  
  
Jun doesn’t sound drunk, but he sounds...loosened up. All the better for what Sho’s got in mind.  
  
He waits until he reaches his floor, and after checking that nobody’s lingering on the corridor, he says, “I’m just wondering.”  
  
“Wondering,” Jun repeats. He does that when he’s treading carefully, and Sho knows he has all of Jun’s attention now.  
  
“A few years back, you guys rented costumes from the jimusho for my birthday, right?” he asks in one breath. He ends up pursing his lips in anxiety; Jun’s the type who laughs at inappropriate times. He might laugh now, and if he does, Sho will be too embarrassed to bring it up again.  
  
After a moment of terse silence, Jun answers. “We did.”  
  
Sho can hear no judgment, no change of tone or trace of emotion.  
  
He blinks, his key stuck in the lock. He doesn’t know how to proceed from here. It’s out there, and Jun’s definitely worked it out for himself, but because he’s Jun, he wants to hear it from Sho. It’s why he called. He always wants to hear it from Sho, no matter what it is.  
  
Sho doesn’t know how to say it. He knows what he wants to try, but he never really asked before if Jun’s into it. They’ve done it for so many of their late night shows that it shouldn’t be a cause for embarrassment, but Sho simply hesitates.  
  
“You have to tell me,” Jun says, breaking the silence. “I have to hear it from you.”  
  
Sho decides to speak his mind. “I never really asked before what you think of it.”  
  
“I think,” Jun says carefully, voice lowering a bit in pitch, “that if you want to, we can. I’m not...against it.”  
  
That makes Sho huff a laugh of relief, twisting his key to enter his apartment. His chuckles become louder once he’s inside.  
  
“I remember,” Sho says. “You like maids.”  
  
“Maid outfits,” Jun says immediately, and Sho laughs. “No—ah fuck.”  
  
“You can’t take it back,” Sho tells him, unable to stop smiling.  
  
“Why are you laughing?” Jun asks, sounding irritated.  
  
“You’re so cute,” Sho says. “I missed talking to you like this. It’s been too long, don’t you think?”  
  
He’s able to open his fridge and grab a can of beer when Jun says, “I wouldn’t have sent that text if I didn’t think the same.”  
  
That’s the closest thing to an admission Sho can get, so he decides not to push it.  
  
“Rent it,” he says instead.  
  
Jun pauses. “What?”  
  
“What you wore for my birthday surprise,” Sho says. “The policeman outfit that was too big for you back then. I think it fits you just fine now, but yeah, that’s my request. I want you to rent it.”  
  
“If I rent it off the jimusho, what kind of excuse can I give them?” Jun asks, and Sho tries not to laugh again. He should have known that’d be Jun’s concern and not finding the entire idea preposterous.  
  
He wonders why he even considered the possibility of Jun making fun of him. Has it really been that long that he’s forgotten?  
  
“It’s not Halloween anymore,” Jun is saying, and Sho hears him sigh. “I can’t rent it. I don’t have any explanation for it.”  
  
“Tell them you want to surprise me,” Sho says. “Come on, I was able to rent the transparent suit for a Halloween costume party. You can find your way around this.”  
  
Jun lets out another sigh, purposefully long this time, Sho can tell. “Fine. I’ll find a way. That’s it? You want me to wear that on Sunday?”  
  
“Yes,” is all Sho says. “When we get here, change into that, and wait for me in the living room, I guess.”  
  
He can’t see the eyebrow, but he knows it’s arched judging from the tone of Jun’s voice. “Giving orders now, Sakurai-san? If I wear it, don’t you think that means I get to give the order?”  
  
Nothing gets Jun off better than the idea of submission.  
  
“I promise it’ll be good,” Sho assures him, completely ignoring the question. Jun doesn’t know what else Sho’s got in mind. Right now, he thinks Sho just wants him to play cop while they rekindle their relationship.  
  
He’s not wrong, but he’s also not entirely correct.  
  
For a moment, Jun is quiet on the other line. Then: “It always is.”  
  
Sho can’t help smiling at that. It makes him look forward to the weekend even when there’s a concert to perform. “Then you better come here with that outfit.”  
  
“I’ll find a way,” Jun promises, and Sho can hear the rustling of sheets. “Anything else that you want us to try?”  
  
Us. Sho hasn’t heard that in a while, and he nearly laughs at himself. He should’ve tried to find time earlier instead of waiting for Jun to reach out.  
  
They could’ve had this conversation sooner, could’ve planned sooner—just everything _sooner_.  
  
“Just be here,” is all Sho can say. “Are you going to sleep?”  
  
“No, I just wanted to lie down for a bit,” Jun says, but it ends in a yawn.  
  
“Go to sleep,” Sho says. He’s halfway to his bed, and he wants to crash. It’s been a long day.  
  
“I can say the same to you.”  
  
“I am going to sleep,” Sho retorts, matter-of-factly. “I’ll see you...when will I see you?”  
  
“Tuesday, I think? We’ve got VS. Then on Wednesday. And on Thursday for that photoshoot.”  
  
Sho smiles and nods in his lonesome. “You sound like a manager. All right. I’ll see you then.” Then on Sunday, he doesn’t say.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Jun says, obviously just to win. Everything’s a competition for him.  
  
It takes a moment, but Sho remembers, and he feels touched. “I’ve got a good ichimen prepared for tomorrow night,” he brags.  
  
“Can’t wait,” Jun says. “Don’t stumble over your lines.”  
  
“Wow, as if,” Sho says, affronted. He hears Jun laugh for the first time. “I’m going to sleep.”  
  
Jun hums. “Good night.”  
  
That, Sho hasn’t heard in months. It feels good to hear it now and to be able to say it back.  
  
“Good night.”  
  
\--  
  
It started when Sho found it.  
  
He was looking for his old pair of overalls for rehearsals, because he was going to do a lot of dancing and he wanted the loosest, most worn out pair he had so he’d have the excuse to throw them out once they finally give way. He spent hours digging into his closet until his hand closed around an unfamiliar garment, and it took a bit of tugging to finally unearth it from under his old shirts and jerseys.  
  
At first, he frowned. He couldn’t remember purchasing something like this. It was short and it had a slit on the back, and the material felt authentic enough.  
  
But then he remembered. Fifteen years ago, he had turned twenty.  
  
And this had been Nino’s present for him.  
  
He examined it carefully, trying to look for any holes or loosened stitching. Aside from a small pinhole at the waistband—imperceptible unless one looked too closely, really—it was in mint condition. If Sho did online selling, the police miniskirt could still fetch a decent price, given that Sho had never used it.  
  
He put it at an arm’s length from him, wondering. And when he realized no harm could come from it, he decided to try it on.  
  
\--  
  
The rest, he had to buy online.  
  
Sho’s not an idiot, so he did his purchases from the less popular websites using a dummy account and had them delivered to his apartment building, not to his exact address. Then he made sure to notify his landlady for a package, claiming that the sender had misunderstood and made some mistakes. And once Sho received the items, he deleted his account and began counting the days.  
  
Fishnet stockings, check. Three-inch heels, check. He even had a jaunty police hat that he could only wear sideways for some reason. He had gloves, a fitted shirt he could wear with a skinny tie, and the most important thing, perhaps: a pair of handcuffs, made with padded leather. Not exactly in line with the whole outfit, but Sho values his comfort over anything else. It’s why the heels only went up to three inches.  
  
The rest of the week proceeds as per schedule, and Sho’s thankful that the tie he wore for FNS didn’t hit his face, lest he becomes an overnight internet sensation once more. The last time that happened, Ohno had tears in his eyes out of sheer joy.  
  
By late Thursday, Sho’s on his way to Fukuoka with everyone else. Jun ends up sitting beside him on the plane, but he’s too preoccupied with this phone to pay attention to Sho, and Sho’s too sleepy to even care. He dozes off, only woken up by a slight nudge to his elbow that signaled that the complementary plane food is being served.  
  
He eats without thinking, mind still half-asleep. Idly, he checks his phone for any news he may have missed, feeling grateful for the working Wi-Fi service despite being thousands of feet in the air already.  
  
Then his phone vibrates, indicating a text message received. He glances at the top of the screen and sees Jun’s name, and Sho throws a look to his side.  
  
Jun is pretending he didn’t do a thing, face half obscured by a mystery novel. But his eyes aren’t moving on the pages; he’s watching Sho too.  
  
Sho switches apps and checks the message, trying not to smile when what he reads is _I borrowed it._  
  
_“Borrowed”?_ Sho asks.  
  
Jun’s phone beeps, but he ignores it. Yet Sho doesn’t miss the tiny jolt of his leg when the device vibrated in his pocket.  
  
“You’ve got a text,” Sho says, sipping his juice. He wishes he can have coffee, but airline coffee is bland and eighty percent hot water. He could go without.  
  
The way Jun moves is practiced, almost methodical that it makes Sho laugh. He’s so stiff when it comes to any form of public interaction with Sho. Not that anyone’s around to see—most of the staff are either sleeping or minding their own business—but they’ve spent nearly half of their lives under the scrutiny of other people that caution becomes second nature.  
  
Still, it’s funny to see Jun trying not to make a potential booty call too obvious when he’s the one who first sent a text.  
  
Sho’s phone vibrates, and he checks it unhurriedly.  
  
_Rented. Whatever. I got it._  
  
Sho smiles and tucks his phone away. He pulls out the airline magazine and flips through it, finding one of Nino’s interviews and starts reading it.  
  
He’s one paragraph in when Jun adjusts in his seat. Sho doesn’t mind him.  
  
Until he speaks.  
  
“Aren’t you going to reply to that?” Jun asks, voice too soft to be picked up by anyone save for the person sitting beside him.  
  
“To what?” Sho asks absentmindedly; he’s hooked by Nino’s clever words now. Nino’s always given interesting answers even to the most mundane of questions. It amazes Sho every time.  
  
“The message,” Jun says, in the same way he might have said, “Pay attention to me.”  
  
Sho pauses on reading. Thinks. Decides to play along. “What reason did you give them?”  
  
Jun shrugs in reply. Sho casts a sidelong glance in his direction, and he watches as Jun pointedly refuses to look at him.  
  
“Christmas party,” Jun mumbles.  
  
Sho laughs.  
  
He ignores the glare he receives for that; he can’t help it. “Well, you can call it that.”  
  
“You’ve got plans?” Jun asks after a moment, and now he sounds interested, unlike earlier when he was feigning boredom.  
  
Sho shrugs. “Maybe.”  
  
“I don’t like surprises,” Jun reminds him.  
  
“I know,” Sho acknowledges, smiling. “You know what it is. You already figured it out.”  
  
Jun is quiet as he turns away, but Sho catches him moistening his lips.  
  
Sho raises the magazine once more, picking up on where he left off. “You’ll like it,” he says belatedly.  
  
At least, he’ll try to make sure Jun will like it. There’s still the concert to focus on.  
  
He doesn’t expect a reply, so when he feels a hand stray to where his knee is and squeeze once, he nearly drops the magazine.  
  
Jun tries to look innocent while also looking triumphant as his hand disappears, and Sho holds the magazine high to hide his face for the rest of the flight.  
  
\--  
  
There are a few sound system mishaps that occurred during the Fukuoka leg of the tour, but they must be minor inconveniences Jun would fix during the Nagoya leg because he doesn’t call for a meeting on the last day. Normally, he makes an announcement to the staff that they have to talk about certain adjustments and temporary solutions to technical problems as soon as a concert wraps up, but Sho watches him reschedule meetings with his manager for Friday of that week instead.  
  
The flight back has Sho catching up on sleep, and he only wakes up when his manager delivers a soft kick to the tip of his shoe to tell him that they’re back in Tokyo. It’s a routine after that: retrieving his luggage, keeping his head down as he gets out of the airport to avoid the awaiting paparazzi, half-listening to his manager run down some reminders for him as he gets driven to his place. He dozes off somewhere in the middle of the drive, and when he opens his eyes, he’s at his apartment building.  
  
He says goodbye to his manager with a brief nod of thanks, and as the van pulls out into the curb, his phone vibrates in his pocket.  
  
_I’m on my way,_ is what Jun’s text says.  
  
Jun has to take a cab in order to get to Sho’s place, and Sho’s confident he at least has fifteen minutes before Jun is able to ring his doorbell. He takes the elevator and replies with _Use your key_ , hoping Jun had the foresight to pack it even before Fukuoka.  
  
Instead of waiting for an affirmative text from Jun, he prepares. He checks his stock of beer in the fridge and pulls out his stack of restaurant flyers after. Jun isn’t picky about food unless he feels like making it himself, but Sho wagers he’s too tired to even consider chopping up vegetables in Sho’s kitchen.  
  
He settles for ramen and phones the order in, ascertaining that whatever he picked for Jun will be packed according to his instructions: the noodles separate from the soup, lest they become soggy and Jun becomes insufferable.  
  
“My companion’s particular with the noodles, I’m sorry,” Sho says by way of an explanation.  
  
When that’s done, he changes into his most comfortable pair of sweatpants and waits by the living room, trying to pass the time by playing a game on his phone.  
  
He manages to win several stages before he hears the door unlocking, and he exits the game to find Jun with a bag slung over his shoulder, face half-hidden by a baseball cap, and a takeout bag in his arms.  
  
“Oh,” Sho says.  
  
“I met the delivery guy in the elevator,” Jun explains, handing the takeout to him. “I figured it’s yours when I smelled miso ramen.”  
  
“Hi,” Sho greets.  
  
Jun is wearing his glasses, his eyes hidden by glint of the light reflected on them. “Hi.”  
  
“How much do I owe you for the takeout?” Sho asks as he begins arranging the bag’s contents on his kitchen counter. In the corner of his eye, he sees Jun removing his cap and hanging his jacket by the door.  
  
Jun waves off the question and instead takes a seat, plopping his chin on the back of his hand. He watches Sho’s every movement, mouths a thank you when Sho hands him the chopsticks and doesn’t comment when he sees his noodles are separated from the soup despite being delighted about it.  
  
Sho grabs a stool to sit across Jun, letting out a happy sigh when his ramen tastes better than what he expected. Either this is really good or he’s just that hungry, but it really doesn’t matter. He’s having a great time.  
  
“Beer?” he asks as he opens his eyes, and he sees Jun looking at him. Like this, with no one around to see, Jun doesn’t have to pretend he’s not doing it. There’s no need to look the other way or to appear inconspicuous.  
  
“Sure,” Jun says, and Sho moves to retrieve two for the both of them.  
  
“Cheers,” he says when they have them open, “for a successful third leg of the tour. Three more to go.”  
  
“Fans noticed that our microphones sounded a bit off during the latter parts,” Jun says.  
  
Sho indulges him. They could talk about work first; this is the safest topic to start on. “Been lurking on twitter again?”  
  
“They’re not exactly hiding what they think of it,” Jun says. Sho knows he has a dummy account which he uses to peruse over the general consensus and favorability of their recently wrapped up shows. It’s diligent. It’s also a very Jun thing to do.  
  
“Does that disappoint you? When they find something wrong with it? I never asked how you feel about it,” Sho says around a mouthful of noodles.  
  
“It doesn’t disappoint me,” Jun says, punctuating it with a rather loud slurp of his noodles. Without the staff around, he acts less composed and more like himself, the Jun not a lot of people know. “It makes me want to do better, though. You know how it is.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re always trying to outdo yourself,” Sho says. At Jun’s eyebrow, he adds, “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just...very you, I suppose.”  
  
“Very me,” Jun repeats. “What else is very me aside from being this meticulous about our concerts?”  
  
Sho gives it thought. His eyes drift to where Jun left his bag, right on his couch.  
  
“Is it there?” he asks.  
  
Jun inclines his head for an answer.  
  
“It’s very you to come prepared,” Sho says with a smile.  
  
“You told me to,” Jun says.  
  
“But you don’t do things unless you want to do them,” Sho points out. He laughs. “I’m flattered.”  
  
Jun finishes the rest of his ramen before he speaks again. “So how do we do this?”  
  
“You mean what’s the plan?” Sho shrugs. “There’s no plan. I’m kind of...making this up as I go.”  
  
“I noticed,” Jun says, checking his watch. “Need a hand?” He gestures to the containers but Sho waves him off.  
  
“Go get changed,” is what he says.  
  
They share a look before Jun stands without a word. He retrieves his bag and heads to Sho’s bathroom, but before he disappears past the threshold, he halts.  
  
“Any other...requests before I have to wait for you?”  
  
Sho looks at him and considers. “Keep the glasses on,” he says before he can think otherwise.  
  
“All right,” Jun says, and Sho hears the bathroom door being shut.  
  
Jun is Jun, so he’s going to take liberties and shower first before he plays along. That gives Sho a bit of time. He takes out the trash before he locks himself in his room and lets out a breath.  
  
Then he starts shedding off his clothes.  
  
This is the part that takes a few minutes; he likes looking at himself in the mirror when no one’s rushing him. He stands there and massages parts of his shoulder that feel stiff and tries to crack some joints. Getting a cramp tonight is out of the question.  
  
When he’s satisfied, he begins to dress up. The stockings are scratchy despite him shaving his legs beforehand so Sho catalogs that as one discomfort he has to ignore. Hopefully, he’ll forget all about it as the night goes on.  
  
It’s almost robotic, the way he puts on the shirt, tucking it inside the skirt that barely covers his ass, how he puts on the tie and a jacket to complete the look. He puts on the shoes and wobbles a bit as he crosses the other side of the room to retrieve the selfie stick Jun had given to him because Jun claimed he’s “terrible with selfies”.  
  
The gloves are difficult to put on because they’re not the best kind of leather out there, but for a one-time thing, they’ll do. Once Sho has the hat on, he finally looks at his own reflection in the mirror, trying to fix the rest of his clothes.  
  
When he finally deems himself to be presentable, he tinkers with the selfie stick and tries to take a photo of himself with his legs crossed. Doing so makes the skirt hike up, and he tugs on it self-consciously as he takes the shot.  
  
It’s bad. His room is dark, making the photo pixelated in some parts, but the rim of the hat gleams under the camera flash. He decides to send it to Jun before he can think twice, figuring if Jun’s going to laugh, he can do it while Sho’s not yet in the living room.  
  
He hears no laughter from the living room, but his phone does vibrate in his hands not even a minute later.  
  
_Come out, officer, and arrest me,_ is Jun’s text. He must think that’s seductive, which makes Sho laugh. Jun tries so hard, and it’s cute, but he’s just as corny as Sho despite his beliefs.  
  
Sho tugs on the hem of his skirt one last time before he opens the door, and sure enough, Jun is seated on the couch, waiting with his phone in hand.  
  
He sets the phone aside as soon as he heard the door open, and Sho can feel Jun’s eyes raking over his form. Jun starts looking at his stilettoed feet, climbing up to Sho’s stockinged legs and lingering at where the skirt begins. He keeps his eyes there as Sho struts forward, his gaze lifting slowly to meet Sho’s once Sho’s standing before him.  
  
Jun sits like a king: legs spread, one hand on the armrest, the other clutching his phone which he chose to abandon in favor of Sho. He looks like he owns the apartment, like he’s not Sho’s guest.  
  
Sho takes in the sight of him. Jun’s policeman outfit definitely fits him better now that he’s gained some muscle, and together they make a pair. Sho wonders if fans will scream for this, if this would’ve been a better costume choice for their unit song.  
  
“You keep looking at my thighs,” Sho says, a little self-conscious under the scrutiny.  
  
“I like your thighs,” Jun admits huskily.  
  
“I know,” Sho says. “You try hard not to look at them every time we finish Bazuri Night. But I know.” He smiles. “My face is up here, Matsumoto-san.”  
  
Jun’s eyes flick to meet his. “Any plans? You’re the one who’s particular about planning stuff.”  
  
“Do you have work tomorrow?” Sho asks.  
  
“Staff meeting and a rehearsal for a scene in the drama in the afternoon,” Jun replies. “You?”  
  
“Zero.”  
  
“Come closer,” Jun says, likely deducing that they can both stay up late for tonight.  
  
Sho takes a step, then another, until he’s standing in between Jun’s legs. His feet are beginning to ache, and he must’ve shown a sign of discomfort on his face.  
  
“Hurts anywhere?” Jun asks.  
  
“I’m not used to heels,” Sho explains.  
  
“No, you’re not,” Jun acknowledges. “I like the stockings.”  
  
Of course he likes the stockings. Sho knows Jun has a legs fetish on top of his not-so-secret butt fetish. He definitely likes what he’s seeing at present.  
  
“Just the stockings?” Sho asks with a frown. He’s put up this entire outfit. He could use a few more compliments.  
  
“Is that,” Jun asks, finally focusing on something else, “the skirt Nino gave to you?”  
  
“You remember it well,” Sho says, truly impressed.  
  
“It barely fits you,” Jun says, voice lowering in pitch.  
  
Sho tugs on the skirt to make a point.  
  
Jun shakes his head. “Don’t. I like the way it hikes up.”  
  
“If you like it, do something about it,” Sho says with a touch of annoyance he doesn’t bother to mask.  
  
Jun straightens in his seat, keeps his legs together, and Sho gets the hint. He moves to straddle Jun, one hand gripping the edge of the skirt to keep it in place as he takes his place on Jun’s thighs. They’re thick enough to bear his weight, but he still appreciates the arm Jun wraps loosely around his waist as support.  
  
“How much did you pay to rent this?” Sho asks, fingers wrapping around the tie Jun has on. Jun’s eyes are dark behind his glasses, and now that they’re this close, Sho can see how Jun’s holding back. He won’t be able to do that for long, but Sho allows him to believe otherwise.  
  
“Enough for one night,” Jun whispers, and Sho’s hit with how much he missed him. He wonders if it’s mutual. It’s been so long for them.  
  
Sho leans closer, angling for Jun’s mouth, but he’s halted by Jun’s gloved hand that’s suddenly between them. He eyes it, exchanges a look with Jun, and understands.  
  
He traps the tip of the glove between his teeth, pulling it off slowly to reveal Jun’s long fingers. He spits the glove to their side to discard it, and as soon as he focuses back on Jun, Jun’s now-ungloved hand slips to the back of his neck to guide him forward.  
  
The contact doesn’t surprise him, but how much he’s been craving it does. It only registers now when they’re like this, when Jun’s sighing against his mouth before staking his claim to it. It’s easy for Sho to part his lips, to let Jun in and get lost in the moment.  
  
He pulls back to remove and fold Jun’s glasses, hooking them in the pocket of Jun’s jacket. Wrapping his hands around Jun’s pale neck gives him the control he wants, and it’s him who moves this time, bridging the gap that they never bothered to address till now.  
  
It’s also him who goes lower, brushing his mouth over the hard line of Jun’s jaw, hearing Jun’s appreciative sigh. The hat Jun’s wearing drops somewhere behind them as Jun extends his neck, but neither of them mind. Sho touches familiar places using his mouth, sometimes his tongue if he wants to feel the skin ripple under him.  
  
He can feel Jun’s hands exploring, the arm wrapped around him now gone in favor of clutching his hip, while the ungloved hand is repeatedly stroking his thigh through the stockings.  
  
Jun visibly pauses when his hand reaches under the skirt, and Sho pulls back to meet his eyes.  
  
“You,” is all Jun says, pupils blown wide that only a thin rim of brown remains.  
  
Sho kisses the corner of his mouth. “I told you to do something about it.”  
  
Jun moves quickly, hiking his skirt as far as it can go, eyes fixed at what was underneath. Sho opted not to wear anything under the skirt save for the stockings, and he watches Jun as Jun takes this in.  
  
Then Jun’s hands inevitably settle on his ass, and Sho tries not to laugh at Jun’s haste to remove the glove on his other hand. He cups Sho and pulls him closer, and when his mouth is resting right on Sho’s Adam’s apple, Sho finally hears it.  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
Sho smiles and runs a soothing hand on Jun’s head, fingers massaging his scalp.  
  
“This is the sexiest I’ve seen you,” Jun admits, face hidden from view.  
  
“Really?” Sho asks in genuine wonder. “This is sexier than my AnAn? The fans won’t agree with you.”  
  
“They’re not seeing what I’m seeing,” Jun says.  
  
“You’re doing more than seeing,” Sho says, feeling Jun’s hands squeeze his ass.  
  
“Take off that ridiculous jacket,” Jun whispers, his teeth scraping against flesh and making Sho hiss.  
  
“Ridiculous,” Sho repeats, but he does what he’s asked and readjusts his hat.  
  
They resume kissing, and Sho starts unbuttoning Jun’s jacket for them to be on even ground. Jun helps by shrugging it off his shoulders, and Sho is able to distract him long enough that he’s got the dress shirt unbuttoned.  
  
He withdraws when he hears a loud rip, and he feels Jun tear the material of his stockings to expose him, fingers slipping between the jagged crevice to touch him intimately. He straightens as a reaction when the tip of Jun’s fingers skim over his balls, his answering gasp muffled against Jun’s hot mouth.  
  
“Move,” Jun says once he breaks the kiss. “On the couch, now.”  
  
Sho scrambles to obey, using his knees to get into place. He grabs as many cushions as he can to support his back as he lies down on the couch, trying not to be too embarrassed by how Jun’s got a full, unobstructed view of him as he allows Jun to take off his top and settle between his legs.  
  
“Is this expensive?” Jun asks, pinching the now-tattered material of Sho’s stockings.  
  
“Isn’t it too late to ask that?” Sho retorts.  
  
“I just want to know if you’re expecting me to replace this pair,” Jun explains as he pulls the edges farther away from one another to create a bigger tear, one that gives him access to Sho’s cock as well.  
  
“It’s not expensive,” Sho says, then his breath hitches when Jun settles lower than what he expected. “Jun—”  
  
“Keep your legs spread,” Jun says, breath ghosting over Sho’s thighs. “Hold them in place, come on.”  
  
Sho does, unable to fight the creeping blush that now colored his face.  
  
“Like so,” Jun says, brushing his knuckles over Sho’s cheek. The gentleness of it is a stark contrast to the impatience he’s been exhibiting for the past few minutes.  
  
Then he ducks, and Sho nearly jolts when he feels the wet, slick press of Jun’s tongue against his hole. The first lick is quickly followed by another, teasing then prodding, warm flicks that send his nerve endings on fire. His entire body quakes, so receptive to Jun’s touches. Every puff of breath he releases is an answer to what Jun makes him feel, and he tries to push his hips downward to feel more.  
  
Long fingers wrap around his cock and stroke once, making him arch. It’s either Jun’s name or a hitched noise that breaks past his lips now as Jun licks him around, tongue poking at the muscle and sending tingles that Sho can feel down to his toes.  
  
With his other hand, Jun rakes his nails over Sho’s leg, leaving small tears on the stockings. He seems to like seeing them in a state of disorder, and that’s one kink Sho files away for future reference: Jun likes stockings, only because he knows he has Sho’s permission to tear them apart.  
  
Jun lays a hand over his thigh to push him back, exposing him further, and Sho can’t help glancing down. He sees Jun’s mouth a mess: glistening with saliva that also smeared his cheeks, lips so swollen they’re red. Sho’s seen him like this before: whenever Jun sinks to his knees, but he thinks he likes it more when Jun’s doing this instead of sucking his cock.  
  
Maybe. He’s not certain; Jun’s mouth is a wondrous thing.  
  
It puts strain on Sho’s forearms the longer he tries to hold the position, keeping everything accessible to Jun’s tongue. He jerks when Jun starts blowing, the cool shock of air against heated skin a surprise, and his leg shoots out on its own when Jun runs his thumb over his hole.  
  
His shoe flies off, landing somewhere, and his head drops to the cushions when he feels Jun spread him further using his thumbs, the only warning before Jun goes for another lick.  
  
The hand returns to stroke him and the combined stimulation makes Sho shut his eyes and bury his face in the cushions. It won’t be embarrassing to let Jun know how much he enjoys this, but making noises would betray how much he’s _missed_ this, and he’s not that far gone.  
  
Eventually his grip gives out and his legs drop against Jun’s shoulders, which feel sturdy enough to keep him propped up. Jun’s finger pokes and rubs while his tongue prods Sho open, and he only stops when Sho’s hard enough that he’s got precome staining the skirt.  
  
Jun lowers his legs, sitting back on his heels, and looking down reveals it: Jun’s hard, quite obvious in those slacks, and Jun’s looking at him as he rubs his hand over his erection to provide momentary friction.  
  
“I’ve also gotten handcuffs,” Sho says, suddenly remembering.  
  
Jun’s head tilts. He doesn’t bother to wipe the glistening mess that surrounds his mouth. “Isn’t it too late for that?”  
  
Sho tries to shrug his shoulders despite his movements being limited by the couch. “Well, just so it’s out there.”  
  
“What else did you get?” Jun asks, and Sho laughs, opting not to answer that one verbally.  
  
He digs around the couch for that leftover tube of lube, one that he and Jun had used before but decided to leave in the living room in case they didn’t make it to the bedroom.  
  
He’s grateful they had the foresight.  
  
He tosses it to Jun, who pops it open to coat his fingers. Sho discards his shirt and makes himself comfortable on the couch, finding a position that won’t hurt his back or give him a stiff neck after; he’s simply not as young as he used to be.  
  
The first finger is gentle, starting with a poke before it slides in once Sho becomes loose enough for it. Aside from Jun eating him out, Sho also loves the sensation of Jun opening him up. Despite Jun’s impatience with other things, he doesn’t rush this. He lets Sho take as much time as he needs for the experience to be good for the both of them, and Sho appreciates that. It’s easy to get lost in the heat of the moment.  
  
“Admit it,” Sho finds himself saying when Jun has two fingers moving in and out of him, “you thought of fucking me while I was wearing the Bazuri Night dress.”  
  
“That dress is stupid,” Jun says, fingers slow and steady.  
  
“And with the wig on too,” Sho continues, as if Jun didn’t speak at all. “Oh you did. You thought of it. The knee-high boots wrapped around you as you fuck me. You’d like that.”  
  
“Not with the wig,” Jun says, adding another, and the stretch is incredible that it makes Sho sigh.  
  
“So you did think of it,” Sho says, ending in a quiet gasp.  
  
“I did,” Jun admits; quite uncharacteristic of him so there has to be a catch. “I thought of it as much as I thought of fucking you in a maid costume.”  
  
“That was years ago,” Sho says, hips bucking involuntarily. “Almost a decade ago. We weren’t together then—what, even back then?”  
  
His eyes snap open and he finds Jun staring at him. Will he say it? Sho’s never been this nervous.  
  
“I’ve always wanted you,” Jun says, fingers ceasing in their teasing movements. “Even from before. You just...never really bothered to see.”  
  
“I thought—” Sho tries, but Jun shakes his head.  
  
“I know. I’m not angry. We’re here, in the end.”  
  
Sho sits up abruptly, hands reaching for Jun’s face. He initiates this time, kissing Jun despite the awkward positioning they have with Jun’s hand trapped between them. He kisses Jun until Jun responds, until Sho’s eagerness is met in equal measure.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” Sho whispers against Jun’s lips. “I’ve really missed you.”  
  
“We both waited too long, I think,” Jun whispers back, breaths hot and hurried against Sho’s cheek.  
  
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” Sho says, clenching around Jun’s fingers to make his point. He hears Jun curse under his breath and kisses him once more. “Come on.”  
  
Jun pulls away, fingers now fumbling for the zipper of his slacks. His other hand wraps around Sho’s arm and tugs, making Sho sit up and blink at him in question.  
  
“Like this,” Jun says, motioning between them. He settles back on the couch, one hand stroking himself while the other taps expectantly on his thighs.  
  
He must think that’s sexy.  
  
Sho eyes him for a moment.  
  
“Sho-kun,” Jun coaxes.  
  
Sho obliges, holding on to Jun’s shoulders as he moves to straddle Jun once more. Their gazes meet, and Sho hears the unspoken question there.  
  
“Do you need—?” he asks.  
  
“Are you sure?” Jun asks despite the evident lust on his face.  
  
“I trust you,” Sho says simply, watching how Jun takes that in and how his expression betrays how affected he is. They’ve discussed it before but never done it like this.  
  
Right now, it’s what Sho wants.  
  
Jun nods after a terse moment, helping Sho guide his cock, and the both of them gasp when the tip pokes Sho’s hole. The stretch feels good, and the lower Sho goes, the fuller he feels. Once he’s completely seated on Jun’s lap, he lets Jun support his weight as he gives himself time to adjust.  
  
“It’s—” Jun tries, but it ends in a shuddering exhale.  
  
“Good?” Sho asks, breaths uneven.  
  
Jun nods. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck, it’s been too long.”  
  
Sho takes that as his cue to move, using his knees to lift his body, trying to get accustomed to the sensation of Jun in him. Jun’s hands settle on his hips, gripping him tight, as if he’s Jun’s remaining tether to control and he’ll lose it the moment he lets go.  
  
They start slow, gradually increasing in pace as their need intensifies. With their bodies joined like this, Sho can feel every tremble, every pull of muscle as Jun starts meeting him halfway. The tiny noises that escape from him are muffled by Jun’s mouth, pressing insistently, wantonly. Sho can smell sex, sweat, and Jun when he breathes, and it only wills him to move faster as he chases after the building pleasure in him.  
  
Jun’s hands reach his ass, squeezing as they move in unison, and Sho finally gives in to a moan when he feels Jun spread him further. He’s sinking repeatedly on Jun’s cock, the couch creaking in response to their roughness. It won’t be long, and Sho doesn’t really mind. They’re past the stage of prolonging this.  
  
His fingers find themselves in Jun’s hair, and Jun keeps his face hidden against Sho’s neck. There’s this constant buzz filling Sho’s ears combined with the thundering beat of his heart, and he knows he’s close, that they both are.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” Jun husks against his collarbone, teeth sinking into Sho’s flesh. It’s what Sho’s been wanting to hear all along. “So much, you have no idea.”  
  
“Go,” Sho whispers. “It’s okay. Go.”  
  
The sudden hitch of Jun’s breath is what gives him away, and Sho can feel him come, the fleeting desperation that overcame Jun leaving marks on his body with how tight Jun holds on as the orgasm washes over him. Jun trembles under him, eyes shut and mouth parted, and Sho gives in to the temptation and kisses him, knowing he won’t feel much.  
  
But then Jun kisses back, hand cupping Sho’s nape, and when Sho withdraws, Jun blinks at him with something akin to satisfaction on his face.  
  
Sho asks for permission with his eyes, and Jun nods.  
  
He strokes himself quickly since it won’t take much, and when he comes, Jun’s stomach takes the brunt of it. Sho can’t find it in him to care as he falls forward, forehead hitting Jun’s chest as he tries to catch his breath. He hasn’t come like this in months, and he knows it’ll be a while before he can have this again.  
  
He chooses to bask in the moment. If Jun complains, he’d pretend he can’t hear a thing.  
  
But Jun doesn’t complain. Instead, Sho feels a hand gripping him by the chin to tilt his face up, and he opens his eyes to Jun looking at him.  
  
“You’d make a bad cop,” Jun says.  
  
Sho laughs tiredly, and he shuffles closer so he can slot his face against the junction formed by Jun’s neck and shoulder. It’s comfortable to breathe there: he can smell himself all over Jun.  
  
“I forgot to buy a fake badge,” he confesses, something that makes Jun snort.  
  
“I have to return this to the jimusho,” Jun says, inclining his head in a gesture to indicate his slacks.  
  
Sho smiles. “I’ll let you use my washing machine.”  
  
For a while, they stay silent. This close, Sho can feel every breath, every flicker of Jun’s pulse. They’re both yet to descend completely from their high, but pretty soon Jun’s going to comment on their state and demand they take a shower.  
  
Sho does a mental countdown. When Jun shifts under him, he prepares himself.  
  
“Sho-san,” Jun says.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Tell me to stay.” It almost sounds like a request.  
  
“Don’t go anywhere else tonight,” Sho whispers against the crook of Jun’s neck.  
  
Jun’s yes comes as a light pinch delivered to the crest of Sho’s hip, and Sho playfully bites his neck in retaliation.  
  
The resulting squirm is worth it.  
  
\--  
  
Later, when they already showered and are settled on Sho’s bed, Sho waits until Jun appears to be asleep.  
  
He reaches out to poke Jun’s cheek in the dark and whispers, “Bug.”  
  
Jun cracks an eye open.  
  
“I’m going to Pyeongchang in February,” he says.  
  
“I know,” Jun says. “Your schedule isn’t exactly a secret.” He turns to his side to face Sho.  
  
“I know you know,” Sho says. “Just telling you myself. It’ll be a few days.”  
  
“Will you at least be here on your birthday?” Jun asks.  
  
Sho thinks about it. That far ahead isn’t planned yet. Or maybe it is, but he’s currently not informed of it.  
  
“I think so,” he says. “But I’m not sure. I’ll have to check.”  
  
“One day,” Jun says, and Sho blinks at him. “One day each month. Just...let us have that. I don’t want to go through months and months of nothing. Not again. It’s not easy.”  
  
“You’re the one who’s got a drama to film once the new year begins,” Sho points out. “Just when I’m finally free…”  
  
Jun gives him an unimpressed look.  
  
“I’ll do you one better,” Sho agrees. “One weekend each month, if we can afford it. I just think we should try more next year. My work will never lessen, so I know this is mostly on me, but don’t wait next time.”  
  
Jun frowns. “What?”  
  
“Don’t wait until it’s become too much. Send a text like you did this time, but earlier. Or call me. You know I’ll answer. Just...let me know. I tend to get absorbed in what I have to do, you know that, but don’t hesitate to pull me back if you think I’ve gone too far.”  
  
“I go too far sometimes,” Jun says. “I’m the stoic one, remember?”  
  
That makes Sho smile. “Then I’ll pull you back if I think you’re pushing it. If you’ll let me.”  
  
“Okay,” Jun says, nodding. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll listen.”  
  
Sho laughs. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, I guess.” He moves to lie on his stomach, eyes still on Jun. “Thank you.”  
  
Jun blinks. “For what?”  
  
“For reaching out first,” Sho says. “I keep thinking I should’ve done it and that it should’ve been sooner, but we were just so busy. That’s not an excuse, I know. That’s why I’m thanking you.”  
  
“It’s nothing,” Jun says dismissively, undoubtedly embarrassed. He knows it means everything to Sho and he’s just shy, so Sho doesn’t push it. “You did prepare a little.”  
  
“I know what you like,” Sho brags.  
  
“Will you get another pair then?” Jun asks, voice hinting at a smile. “The one earlier got reduced to shreds.”  
  
Thanks to you, Sho wants to say, but he studies Jun’s face and tries to look thoughtful despite sleep threatening to overtake him.  
  
“Why not?” If him wearing stockings is something Jun likes, he’s more than willing to go that extra mile. “They’re in season.”  
  
Jun’s quiet laugh fills his ears, and Sho lets it and the comforting presence of Jun beside him soothe him to sleep.  
  
“Good night,” Jun says, and hearing it this close is better than hearing it on the phone.  
  
“Good night,” Sho returns, knowing that when he wakes up, Jun will still be there.

**Author's Note:**

> One time, rochi and I were talking about the gifts Sho has given Jun, and I linked her to a fancam of HiG in 2003, in which they celebrated Jun's twentieth birthday. In there, Sho mentioned Nino had given him a police miniskirt.
> 
> So I told rochi that one of my dream fics back in 2011 was Sho in the police miniskirt and Jun in his policeman outfit for Sho's birthday surprise in the Beautiful World concert.
> 
> rochi ended up drawing some [really good and really nsfw stuff for this idea](https://rochi.dreamwidth.org/5623.html) (because apparently it's not too late to make my old dream fic come true LMAO), and though not all of them are present in this fic, they're all equally beautiful and inspiring. Leave her some love while you're at it; this fic wouldn't materialize without her!
> 
> Today I found out that my dude Sakurai Sho is going to be on This is MJ for the Shiyagare New Year SP, so let's pretend this fic is done in celebration of that as well LMAO


End file.
